Rider (Defenders M.C. Book 3) by Amanda Anderson

Prologue
     
    Rider felt alive.  Damn he hadn’t felt this good in a long time, maybe ever.  He tried to think of a time in his life when he had ever felt this content.  It hadn’t been since his childhood, before his father died, before his mother started drinking, before she’d married again.  That had been almost twenty years ago.  So now why was he so damned happy? 
     
    He stretched and took a deep breath.  Then it hit him.  He smelled her.  Fuck what had he done.  He couldn’t stand to roll over and come face to face with the biggest mistake he had ever made in his worthless life.  He closed his eyes and tried to remember what the fuck had led him to this place.
     
    She had been in his room.  She had helped him with something and he had made the mistake of looking at her ass.  Damn fine ass the woman had.  He’d let himself dream for a single minute and that had been enough.  She had turned and looked at him like he was a man.  The same look she had always given him.  Nothing had changed in her eyes.  The scar that ran from his left brow to just under his chin didn’t make any difference to her and he had craved it.
     
    He remembered with excruciating clarity" ao.  every inch of her body and how well it had fit with his own.  He remembered the taste of her skin and the feel of her body wrapped around his.  He remembered the sounds she made when he plowed into her.  She hadn’t protested when he had gotten rough, she had loved it.  He had loved it too.  He felt the stinging welts that ran down his back where her nails had raked it.  She had been more than he could ever have dreamed. Fuck he was screwed.
     
    He rolled to his side carefully and there she was.  Her blonde curls spread out over his pillow.  She lay on her belly and her hair covered most of her face, but it was her.  Her skin glowed in the morning light and his mouth watered to taste her again, but he couldn’t.  He knew he would never taste her again.  She wasn’t part of this life.  She was better than this hell he lived in. He cursed himself for being so weak.  Everyone knew she was off limits to the brothers and she was only allowed in the clubhouse because of him.  Her father would skin him alive.
     
    Rider moved and felt his injuries pulling.  It hurt still even if he was mostly healed.  He had lost himself in a woman and she had carved him up like a Thanksgiving turkey.  That bitch had spouted love words all while she had been working with the Devils.  He had fallen for it hook line and sinker and he had been made a fool of.  He knew this one could do it if she wanted to.  He was crazy over her and always had been.  He knew she wanted him too, but he had always held her off.  This was not the kind of woman who wanted a biker for the long haul.  Sure she would go slummin’ and then when she left him he would be empty.
     
    Fuck he sounded like an old woman.  He knew Lizzie understood what life with the Defenders meant, her old man was the Prez and her whole family was wrapped up in it, but Lizzie had made her choice.  She had gotten out.  She had gone to school and become a nurse because she wanted to help people.  All Rider did was hurt people.  He wondered if any of the men he’d fucked up had ever been treated by Lizzie and he wanted to go back and kill them.  What the hell had he done?
     
    Deep down he knew Lizzie would never betray him, but he couldn’t risk it, not yet and when he did he would make damned sure it wasn’t with her.  She didn’t belong here.  She would regret getting mixed up with him and she would hate him for it.  What kind of life could her offer a woman like her anyway?
     
    He let himself drink her in for another moment before he pushed her roughly away.
     
    “Get the fuck out of my bed.  This is some bedside manner.  You offer this shit to all your patients or am I just one of the lucky ones?”
     
    Her green eyes opened and widened as she realized what